The Story of Us
by m1tt
Summary: Sisters' accidental kiss leads to more.
1. the first kiss

"anna, where's the remote?"

"On the coffee table," my sister yelled from the kitchen. I heard her rooting around in the fridge, probably making another sandwich. I kept telling her to watch her carbs, but she was a track addict who ran two miles a day. Ergo she ate like a shark with no side-effects.

I looked over at the coffee table, a sturdy European-style metal and glass affair dad brought back from one of his business trips, but there was no remote. A quick check of the end tables on both sides of the couch also left me hanging, which sucked because if there was no remote, then there was no movie because the stupid Blu-Ray player didn't have any buttons on the front except for 'power'. You could turn it on and off, but that was it. "No it's not. C'mere and help me look."

She trotted in from the kitchen, sure enough carrying a sandwich. "Remind me to write 'mayo' on the grocery list."

"Will you start looking?"

"OK, chill out. It didn't just grow legs and walk away." She set the plate with her uneaten sandwich down on the coffee table and joined the hunt.

We spent the next fifteen minutes searching, anna bending down to look under the furniture while I pulled cushions off the sofa and love seat. We looked on the kitchen counters, the dining room table, behind the TV stand, everywhere we could think, but came up empty-handed. With a hefty sigh, anna flopped down dramatically on the love seat and swung her feet up and over one arm. "Well that sucks."

"No kidding. You don't suppose Dad hid it for some reason, do you?"

"Why would he do that, elsa?"

"Because it's Dad? It'd be just like him to go out with his friends, knowing we were gonna watch a movie here, and hide the remote to screw with us. Remember the time he hid your uniform right before your track meet?"

"Yeah." anna laughed. "How about the time he took all the sheets and stuff off your bed and tried to convince you that they were still there and you just couldn't see them because you needed new glasses?"

I involuntarily pushed my glasses up on my nose and shared her laughter. At eighteen, she was only a year younger than me, but anna was still mostly a kid at heart. Somehow high school hadn't driven it out of her yet. I hoped the world never did.

"You're right, Dad's probably messing with us. I bet he hid it in his room. Let's go see if we can find it."

I hesitated. "I don't think he'd put it in his room. He doesn't like us poking through his stuff when he's not around."

"What, is he afraid we'll put on his nasty old man-undies while he's away?"

I had to laugh at that. Dad still looks decent despite being in his early forties, but his boxers are way too large to fit either one of us.

"It's a matter of privacy," I said. "You wouldn't want him rummaging around in your room, right?"

"No, but I wouldn't be a dork and hide the remote in my dresser either. Seriously let's just take a quick look and then we'll leave. It's Friday, so you know he's not going to be home before two AM anyway." She stood up and stretched, bouncing on the balls of her feet. "Come on, I'll race you!" She took off down the hallway and I stumbled into a run after her, a pointless gesture since anna got all the athletic talent in the family even if she was sometimes a bit lacking in the common sense department.

Naturally she got to Dad's room first and had the knob twisted and the door pushed open before I caught up with her a few seconds later. "Open sesame!"

Dad's room looked way different from our rooms. It was bigger for one thing, with a king-size bed and a big-screen TV right on the wall across from it. He had a desk where he kept his laptop when he worked from home, a massive four-column filing cabinet, a walk-in closet, and (my biggest envy) a private attached bathroom with its own glass upright shower and a separate bathtub with those awesome massaging jets. anna and I shared the other bathroom, which was much more pedestrian: sink, toilet, tub, shower curtain, and a window with a frosted glass facade that let in the light without letting in the perverts.

anna was already at the closet when I looked over at the television. "Why don't we just watch the movie in here? The TV's got a built-in DVD player and the remote's right there on his nightstand."

"Don't you want to snoop?" she whined.

I walked over to the bed and climbed up on it, the pillow-top mattress and bedspread cool and soft against my knees. "You snoop. I'll get the movie cued up." I grabbed the remote and hit power. The TV clicked on, a simple blue screen. Scanning the remote, I pressed the button for 'DVD'. Then I realized something. "Hang on, I left the movie in the living room." I got off the bed, hearing the metal clank of hangers as anna sifted through Dad's wardrobe looking for God-knew-what.

I was halfway down the hall when I heard the music. It was jaunty, but cheesy, the kind you have a hard time believing anyone would listen to of their own accord. Especially Dad, who was known for loving his Zeppelin, Stones, and Floyd. Naturally the music anna and I enjoyed on the radio was 'garbage', but his was 'classic'. Don't get me wrong, I like Classical music just fine, and I don't think the two years of piano lessons when I was ten and eleven were a waste, but Dad's idea of 'classic' and mine couldn't have been more different. I wondered if anna had turned on Dad's iPod, which was docked on his nightstand and served as his alarm clock, but no chance Dad would have such a moronic tune on his play list.

Curious, I walked back into the room. Apparently there had been a disc in the DVD player which decided to auto-play when I turned it on. I went to eject it, but the title caught my eye: 'Sister's Surprise.'

"anna, come here. I think Dad pranked us after all." I found the remote and hit pause.

anna walked out of the closet. "How come?"

"I think he hid the remote, figuring we'd go into his room to use the DVD player, and find this." I pointed at the screen.

"'Sister's Surprise?'" anna screwed up her face. "Gotta be a joke. Well, let's not disappoint him." She bounded up onto the bed, hogged most of the pillows, and stretched out her arms and legs. I climbed up after her and despite her sprawl still had plenty of room. Like I said, Dad's bed is huge compared to the full-size mattress in mine. I reached over and hit 'Play' on the remote, then settled back to watch.

Two girls who maybe kind of looked like sisters if I took off my glasses and didn't think about it very much, walked into the frame. They wore matching basketball uniforms, only with shorts that were way under regulation for length, and tops so low-cut as to guarantee a suspension if they were worn in any gymnasium during school hours. They were outside, a bright sunny day as opposed to the cool autumn night outside our ploace, and they walked up to the front door of the house where they presumably lived. Names flashed on the screen, the opening credits, but they had to be made up. I'd certainly never heard of anybody actually named 'Candy Kane' or 'Priscilla Pounder' before. And that stupid, fake-happy music kept right on playing.

"Who names their kid 'Candy' anyway?" anna asked with a giggle. "That's just asking for trouble. 'Candy' is, like, a stripper name."

The camerawork was shoddy and unsteady, with somebody obviously holding it and struggling to keep the girls in view while walking behind them and trying not to trip on the sidewalk. The sound was also crap, despite the shadow of a boom mic I could see cast on the wall beside their door. It looked marginally cleaner than your standard low-budget film, but I'd seen any number of indie shorts on on Vimeo or YouTube that put this to shame.

One of the girls produced a key from between her cavernous cleavage, caused by breasts way larger than seemed natural for someone of her size, and fit it into the lock.

"Oh come on," anna said. "How'd she keep that in there, magic? Gravity's a thing!"

Did I mention anna's one of those people who likes to talk to the screen? I ignored her, watching the girls walk through the door and inside a house that looked like a movie set before the property master had been there. The walls were bare, the furniture (what little there was) didn't match, and the carpet appeared far too clean for such a high-traffic area. The curtains were as generic as you could get, a plain ivory that could be pulled across to block the view but none of the afternoon light.

"That was a good practice," one of the two girls said, too stiffly in my opinion, like she was trying to make it up on the fly.

"Sure was," the other one replied, with a twinge of uncertainty as she walked inside the house.

"Bullshit," anna snorted. "The only thing they've been practicing is gluing keys to their boobs. They're not even sweaty. Their _hair's_ not even messed up."

"They probably showered at school," I said.

"We really should take a shower," said the first girl, putting paid to that idea.

"Yeah, we should," said the second. "I'm a mess."

They walked up the stairs to the second floor of the house without bothering to close the front door. God, it was like whoever directed this just had no eye for detail.

"The only 'surprise' about this so far is that we're watching it," anna said. I found myself agreeing with her. If this was Dad's idea of a joke, it was pathetic even for him.

The next scene showed a giant bathroom featuring an oversize walk-in shower with a frosted glass door. The two girls, continuing their stilted banter, walked into the bathroom talking about how hard they'd just worked on their basketball skills. One of them called the other one 'sis', because apparently the title wasn't obvious enough, and I was just about to reach over and hit 'stop' because I couldn't take it any longer, when the first one peeled her top up over her head, and the second one did the same.

"Ummm..." anna said. "Haven't they heard of private bathrooms?"

"I guess not," I laughed.

Down came the shorts, and with them the panties, which they took great pains to remove without having first taken off their shoes. Even I, as non-athletic as they come, knew this was dumb. Shoes come off first, then everything else.

The other thing I realized: the camera wasn't zooming in or changing the frame to hide the nudity on display like it usually did with films where actors appeared naked on screen. The few movies I'd seen where people started taking off clothes always used these little tricks so you never saw anything below the waist, or where you'd see a boob for a few seconds, but then it would be covered by an arm or something.

But this wasn't like that at all. These girls were stripping down to nothing and the camera wasn't looking away. I also noticed that, unlike me, these girls were bare between their legs. Some of my friends at school talked about shaving and how great it felt, but I never felt like I could go that far. For one thing, who would see to care? For another, what if I didn't care for the sensation?

The second girl (it was starting to get harder to tell them apart now that they were undressed) opened the door to the shower and turned on the water while the first one struggled to get her shoes off. Whoever held the camera lingered on her butt for what seemed like an eternity. _What on earth would Dad be doing with a movie like this in the first place?_ I wondered to myself.

The first girl got her shoes off and stuck a hand into the shower to test the water temperature, and then it was the second girl's turn to remove hers. She bent over, and again the cameraman fairly glued his lens to her ass. She had a small birthmark on her right cheek, but I wasn't sure I wanted to use that as a distinguishing feature.

Still making forced conversation, the 'sisters' on screen started talking about how sore one of them was, how the other would give her a back rub once they were in the shower, and other stuff that seemed odd for siblings to be discussing. But sure enough, they stepped into the shower, the one girl put her hands on the other's shoulders, and started kneading.

They didn't bother to close the shower door, so their parents would be mad as hell when they saw the puddles all over the floor. I looked at anna, who was watching with interest. "Do you think this is weird?"

"Yeah, sort of," she said. "But, I dunno, it's kinda neat. Dad's never been big on the R-rated stuff. Maybe he's started to loosen up a bit."

The girl receiving the massage on the screen moaned and reached an arm back, wrapping it around the head of the girl working her shoulders, and stroked her neck with her fingertips. Then, without warning, she turned to face the other girl, leaned forward, and...

"Oh my God!" anna said, sitting up.

I watched, not quite believing what I saw. _They're actresses,_ I told myself. _It's not weird that they're kissing, because they're just playing sisters, they're not really related._ I said this to anna.

"How do you know they're not sisters for real?" she replied. I had to admit, I didn't have an answer.

The kiss got more passionate. Their hands started roaming. I felt like I should stop the movie, this weird film Dad left for us to watch, but it was like the cliche of the train wreck: I couldn't look away, and apparently neither could anna.

The scene got more intense as legs were spread and fingers started exploring, just like mine do when I pleasure myself sometimes after everyone else in the house has gone to sleep.

anna watched, eyes wide, occasionally letting out a gasp as things continued to progress to points I'd never even considered. There were moans of pleasure, louder and louder, shuddering cries as the girls drew climaxes out of one another that seemed far larger and longer and more exaggerated than any I'd ever managed to work out of myself.

Drained, the two girls wrapped their arms around one another and slowly sank to the floor of the shower with the water still running. Their lips met one last time, and the screen faded to black. I looked over at the clock: twenty-six minutes had elapsed since we started the video and I hadn't even noticed.

I glanced over at anna to see her staring back at me. "Did we seriously just watch that?" she asked.

I felt the red creeping into my face, but I didn't feel too bad since she was bright crimson herself. "Uh-huh," I managed.

anna turned back to the screen which flickered to blue as the player turned itself off. "That was..."

I swallowed, wishing I had brought my water in with me. My heart was racing._Why_, I wondered, _did Dad of all people have a movie like that?_ "Weird?" I finished for her.

"Well, yeah, weird I guess, but..." She brushed a hand across her forehead. "I don't know. I kind of liked it." She rolled over facing me fully. "And don't even try to say you didn't, 'cause you were the one with the remote."

Did I have the remote? I looked down, and sure enough, it was right there in my hand. I could have turned it off. I could have hit 'Stop' any time I wanted to, and probably should have as soon as I realized what was going on. But I hadn't. I didn't stop, or fast-forward, or anything. I just watched. "That's not fair," I said. "You seemed so into it, I didn't want to shut it off."

She poked me in the ribs. "So it's all my fault, huh?"

"Yeah," I said. "If you hadn't wanted to look in Dad's room..."

She sat up and fanned herself with her hand. "But I did. And you found it. And we watched it." She looked back at me. "And now you can't admit you enjoyed it."

"Look, I'm not saying-"

She didn't let me finish. Before I could complete my thought, anna rolled over on top of me, straddling my hips, pinning my shoulders to the bed with her hands. "Why won't you admit it, hmmm?"

"anna, get off me, seriously."

"Sure. Just say you liked it."

I was trying not to think about it, but with her goading me on my brain just kept replaying it. _Watching the two of them strip..._

"Admit it, elsa."

_...step into the shower, turn on the water..._

"It's simple. 'I like it.' Three little words."

_...a massage that led to a kiss...that forbidden kiss..._

anna dug her fingers under my arms and started to tickle me. "Come on..."

_...and then...and then..._

She bent over further, and I swear to God I wasn't looking, but the front of her loose-fitting tank top was hanging off her neck, and the light fell just the right way, and she was right down in my face, so I leaned up and God help me, I did the only thing I could think about doing, because the memory of the two girls on the video doing it right at the end was so fresh.

I put my lips against hers.

Deliberately.

Intentionally.

I kissed her. My own sister.

As soon as my brain caught up with me, I freaked out. I pulled myself away from her, eyes wide, the babble of an apology stuttering all around my throat but completely unable to find any traction so it could pull itself out.

anna stiffened, looking down at me, right into my eyes, and I couldn't blink, I couldn't look away, because I knew I deserved that look. Whatever she was going to do, whatever she was going to say, I braced myself for it and I knew that no matter what she told me, no matter what disgusting names she called me, no matter how long she blackmailed me and held that two seconds' worth of a mistake over my head, there couldn't be any apologies, any backpedaling, any explaining things away. I deserved it. I watched her inhale, and waited like a condemned prisoner, listening for the executioner to order the firing squad to shoot.

"That...that wasn't..." She stammered, which made me feel worse.

"anna, look-"

"...what I expected...my first kiss...would feel like," she finished quietly.

"Oh God, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me," I blurted.

A half-smile broke onto her face. "It's...it's OK, elsa, I'm not...not mad or anything...just..." She looked past me, staring through the blankets, the mattress, the floor below.

"Listen, anna, I'm so... Just, just tell me what you want, anything, and I'll do it, anything you want. I'll make this right."

"You don't have to make it right," she said. "How did it feel?"

"Feel? anna, it was weird, it wasn't-" 'Right?' Was that what I nearly said before I stopped myself? What made it that way? I started to push myself up, but she put her hands back on my shoulders.

"You want to make it up to me, then answer my question: how did it feel, elsa? Compared to Kristoff, how did it feel?"

"You... I can't compare the two, anna! Kristoff was my boyfriend for like two weeks, and that kiss didn't mean anything because he started it, I didn't really want it, and for a first kiss it honestly kind of sucked."

"So yours 'sucked' and mine was 'weird'." She sighed and fell silent, staring off into space.

I was, officially, the worst person in the world.

Finally she looked back at me. "Maybe we could fix it."

"Huh?"

"Let's fix it. For both of us. Just once. I won't tell, you won't tell, let's get the first kiss we both really wanted. And it'll be our little secret."

Somewhere in my head, my brain tried throwing a circuit breaker. My little sister was sitting on me, asking for a kiss, and I couldn't stop thinking about how it felt, and what it must have felt like for the two girls in the movie, but how they couldn't have felt quite this way about it because they were just actors and anna and I were, you know, actually related.

I took a deep breath. "OK," I said, not giving myself time to argue. "Before I change my mind. Close your eyes. How did you imagine it should go?" I took off my glasses, folded and placed them on the nightstand, and ran a hand through my hair because that's always what people in the movies do and it seemed as good an idea as any. "You want to be on top?"


	2. more then just a kiss

She crawled off and laid down next to me on her side. "No, nobody on top or bottom. Side to side, just like this."

I turned to face her and scooted forward. She did the same, wrapping one arm under my neck and the other around my head. I did likewise. We hesitated for a moment, each one of us getting up the courage, so close I could feel her heart pounding out of her chest, skidding as it tried to apply the brakes only to find them locked up. Exactly like mine.

I was trying so hard not to think about what was happening, but she was all I could picture. The bed, the room, the house, everything around me dissolved out of focus. It was just me and anna, and if I closed my eyes, I could pretend she was anybody really, and it would be just like when we played 'house' or 'Star Wars' or any other games when we were younger.

Her eyes shut, and she tugged me closer. I moved my leg between hers so I could accommodate, and in the instant before our lips touched again, I squeezed my eyes closed and tried to think of someone, anyone, who I'd feel right doing this with in dad's room while he was out enjoying the evening with his co-workers in celebration of winning a major case.

Our mouths met.

We kissed.

So help me, my sister and I, intentionally, kissed.

I don't know what she felt, but as soon as the sensation of my mouth touching hers registered, I knew there wasn't anyone else who would feel right, or better, in this situation than she did. No celebrity, no classmate, no secret crush. My heart, my imagination, my soul all agreed: this was the way it was supposed to be. This is what a first kiss was supposed to feel like. It was supposed to steal your breath, strip your nerves, move you to the very core of your being, freeze time in that one, specific instant, the one moment in all of history where you could plant an invisible flag and proudly declare, "This moment is a gift, and it's mine and mine alone."

I felt a tear welling up because deep down I knew I'd never get another one like it. Every time after this, every relationship, every introduction, every kiss, it would all try to measure up to this one. And it would fail. For the first time, I felt like I knew what it meant to be truly, completely present in the moment. The warmth, the embarrassment, the explanations, the rationalizations to come: they would all never exist like this again.

I hugged her, squeezing her torso against mine, feeling electricity charge the air, wondering if a lightning bolt from heaven would scream down and obliterate me for daring to do what I knew was...well, if not 'wrong' then at least...not right?

Her arms flexed and I felt her hand move up into my hair, fingers spreading, holding me to her mouth. Was she feeling the same thing I did? I parted my lips to ask her and as soon as I did, I felt her tongue, tangy with the residue of her peppermint mouthwash, poke against mine, exploring. _Who am I to you in this fantasy?_ I wanted to ask, but a part of me feared the answer. Because if she asked me the same question, I couldn't lie. To me, she was herself, the only one who made sense. My tongue moved to meet hers and I felt the heat of both desire and dread spreading, emanating from my chest out to my extremities.

By now the kiss had gone on long enough it couldn't qualify as just one. We'd expanded it, added to it, breathed a part of ourselves into it. We had made something new, something unique, something unquestionably ours, a seventh crow carrying a secret never to be told. And like a newly-birthed life form, it grew of its own accord.

My hand moved from around her back and over to her front, caressing the fabric of her gray tank top, and in my mind I saw again what I witnessed earlier when she bent over me: the soft, gentle peaks of her breasts, each one tanned from the salon she and her friends visited from time to time, tipped with small peppermint creme-coloured areolas, the center of each holding a beautiful little rosebud nipple. I gently pushed my hand against her breast through her tank top and ran my thumb across it, and after my second pass I felt a little bump, straining against the cotton, urging another touch.

And another.

And another.

A gasp, a small moan, escaped her lips and she pressed her chest to my hand, forcing her breast into my palm, pleading me to continue with her body language, and by now I didn't have a choice.

I pushed her back just long enough that I could get my hand down under her shirt, and I slid it upward, feeling the soft skin against my fingers as I worked my way up to cup it again, holding her nipple between the side of my thumb and the lowest knuckle of my index finger, sharing her breath as our kiss broke through the levees and started flooding further into uncharted first territories. Her tongue pushed deeper into my mouth and I held it there, wrestling with my own, as the momentum continued to build.

She shivered as I ran my fingertip across her nipple, touching hers the way I liked touching mine when I pleasured myself. The landscape was different, smaller and more firm, taut and toned from her daily run, but not altogether unfamiliar. I could find my way here without a map. The only question was if she wanted me to.

She pulled away, and for a moment I thought maybe I had crossed a line, and opened my eyes to see her looking over at me, using her free arm to push her shirt up and over her breasts, straining against the mattress where her torso met the bed clothes, until she finally succeeded and yanked it up, then guided my hand back.

The heat radiating off her skin was unreal. Intoxicating. It just didn't stop.

I felt every beat of her heart, the rhythm swelling in frequency, and was overtaken by my own desire to feel her against me, as close as I could, with nothing, not even the air of the room, between us. I sat up and pulled her up with me. My hands grabbed for her tank top and yanked it towards the ceiling faster than she could react. It bunched under her armpits, she struggled to get her arms up, and then it was off, leaving nothing behind but the crackle of static electricity from her blonde hair.

She took hold of my t-shirt as well, and I scooted forward to loosen the tail from under my butt since it was a longer one meant for sleeping in. I raised my arms and soon I felt the cool air against my own chest. She pitched my shirt off the side of the bed and lunged into me, knocking me back against the pillows, pinning me to the mattress.

My arms encircled her back as she came down on top of me, mouth meeting mine, the kiss even stronger this time though I don't know how that was even possible. Her smaller breasts pressed into my slightly larger ones, and I felt a warmth better than any space heater could generate spreading through my body.

The rational part of my brain tried to break in for an instant, switching on long enough to say, "Stop it, elsa! This is annaanna, your sister!" and in response I reached inside my own mind, grabbed the power cord to rationality, and ripped it from the wall, tearing the socket itself out with my intensity. _Fuck you,_ I growled at my super-ego. _Right now this is right and that's all that matters. Tomorrow might be a different story, but right now, this is happening and it is going to happen no matter what._

I ran my hands down her back, pushing my fingers gently into her shoulders, her muscles contracting, as she encircled one of my legs with her own. Her mouth broke away, and I briefly thought we had reached the end of the line, but it came down on my neck, and I felt her gently sucking, kissing, moving closer to my ear, then down again, and I arched my back so I could lean up and do the same to her shoulder. I moved my hands to the small of her back and pulled her against me, forcing her skin against mine as close as she could get.

It still wasn't enough.

My fingers made their way down her flat stomach, paused to briefly inspect her little 'innie' belly button, and continued below the waistline of her sweats, sliding it between her skin and the folds of her clothing.

I wanted more.

_Share with me,_ I pleaded mentally.

She bent down and kissed my nose, nibbled on my lower lip, and I pushed until the elastic of her sweat pants gave way and moved an inch down her hips.

She scooted herself a little further up the bed, and I pushed them a little further down.

Again, she moved up a short way. Again, I got them down another inch, feeling the skin of her legs, toned and firm, against my fingers.

With another motion, she was now halfway above me, and I opened my eyes. Swaying over me, back-lit by the blue glow of the television we hadn't turned off, were her pert little breasts. I wondered to myself if her nipples had ever been that hard before, and that turned into wondering if I could get them even harder, so as I slid down to continue working her pants off her legs, I leaned up, wrapped my lips around her left nipple, and gave it a quick little kiss.

She inhaled sharply, opened her eyes and gazed down at me.

_Too much?_ I asked with my eyes.

_Not at all,_ she answered with hers as she closed them and shifted so it was closer to my mouth.

I sucked.

I felt her tense up, like something inside started a fight with her desire. She clenched her left hand into a fist and it dropped down on the blanket beside my head as her brain and her heart had it out over who was going to emerge victorious. She whimpered and punched the bed a second time, then dragged herself higher over me, pushing her pants down further, and began kicking one leg at a time, holding her sweats with one foot and dragging the other leg up, repeating this frantic motion back and forth, back and forth, until her pants were down around her ankles and then, with one final, desperate shove from each foot, they were off.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and held her in place, my mouth, lips, and tongue gently caressing, stroking, kissing her little nipple. I made a fist with my right hand and grabbed it tightly in my left so she couldn't move, and I sucked, moaning against her inviting skin, trying to explain just how fucking hot everything had gotten, enough though I could tell she felt the same.

I moved to her other breast because I didn't know how sensitive she was, how much she'd enjoy attention on just one, and she melted into me, making it hard to breathe as her breast covered my mouth and nose like a cushion of velvet. The powdery scent of her deodorant mixed with a lingering coconut hint of body wash from her shower a few hours earlier. It's funny: you can smell the same thing hundreds of times without noticing, but now there it was, adding one more layer to the complex picture of my sister I was repainting in my mind.

anna... Good God, here I was, creating the most beautiful image anyone could ever create of you in my head, and the cruel irony was no one but me would ever see it. The Louvre could burn and not affect me the way losing this one picture would.

I no longer held her so tightly, secure in my belief she wasn't going anywhere, and resumed stroking her back, from shoulders to hips, which were now covered in nothing more than one of her favorite pairs of boy shorts: an orange and yellow crisscross pattern of cotton with white trim around the legs and waist.

She sighed and moaned, pushing herself against me, moving so I could feel every inch of her skin against my hands. I kissed my way to the center of her chest, licked her sternum, ran my tongue along the undercurves of each little breast in turn, tasting her salty sweat, and so help me getting even more turned on by the sensation.

Then I felt her hand moving to my waist. Unfastening the knot I had tied in my blue and white polar bear pajama pants because they were one size too big and tended to slide down if I didn't keep them cinched up. _How far was this going?_ I wondered idly before deciding: _As far as it goes._

She undid the knot and pulled the waistband, drawing the strings open.

Then her breasts were away from my mouth, and I panicked because I had started to get used to the sensation of her nipple between my lips.

The tug at my pants pulled me back to reality. I raised my hips up off the bed, and she dragged them off my waist, taking my panties along for the ride. Now it was my turn to shudder as a million thoughts rushed my head. _Is this really a good idea? Are you sure this is as right as you think it is? What if she sees the hair between your legs and freaks out?_

Taking a page from anna's book, I made a fist and thumped the bedspread, punching reason in the face again and again until it slunk away cradling its bloody nose, and I pulled my legs out from my pants as fast as I could, because the faster I got undressed, the faster I knew we'd get back to...whatever this was, and whatever it was going to be, and all I knew right then was I didn't care what it turned out to be. I wanted it. I wanted her.

I needed her.

She looked at me after tossing my pants to the ground. She looked at me. Really looked at me. Into my eyes. Sharing something...everything... I know what she was telling me even though I can't possibly put it into words because at a certain point language just falls apart.

But if you've been there...if you've ever been where I was that night...then I urge you to think back to that moment. Close your eyes. Move as far back into your memory as you need to go, but find that place. Find that instant. Drape it over yourself like a comfortable robe. Simmer in the intensity of the feeling, marinate your spirit in the desire welling up out of you like a lava burst, and understand: it's not rational, but you remember how a single look, a simple touch, can communicate everything, and exhaust you intellectually like reading an encyclopedia from cover to cover.

That's where I was.

That's where we both were.

I don't know what you'd call it: fate, divine intervention, the fortunes, the Muses, it has many names and none that suffice. But something conspired to bring us to that point. Then move us beyond.

She looked at me, deeply, seeing beyond me, as more than just her sister. In that look, I saw comfort, I saw trust, I saw every complex emotion you feel when you fall in love at first sight. I saw why this happened.

I kept telling myself over and over again: this happened because it had to happen. It happened because the world has a sense of humor, sometimes sick, sometimes morbid, sometimes cruel, and sometimes more beautiful than a million angels singing "O Holy Night" in the heavenly choirs. And sometimes what the world condemns as wrong just...isn't.

When she leaned back down, put her lips against mine, I was quaking. The power of that revelation kicked on the faucets of adrenaline, and I couldn't shut them off. It scared me, enthralled me. We kissed again, and again, and again, each one stronger than the last, climbing a sort of sexual Richter scale that didn't end at 10...and maybe kept going as long and as high as numbers themselves.

I felt her struggling to get her boy shorts off, so I did the only thing that made sense: I rolled her over on to her back, crawled down to the foot of the bed, positioned myself between her legs, took her underwear in both hands, and pulled.

Her hips barely made it off the bed, and I climbed over her leg so I could drag them the rest of the way off without getting tangled up in them. Right ankle out, left ankle out, and there was anna, my sister, the girl I was sharing my first kiss, my first real kiss and so much more with, laid visible on the bed before me, and nothing in between except wanton desire. Lovers' eyes see differently than normal eyes, and right then, anna looked so amazingly, incredibly, beautifully different. The freckles on her shoulders, the small birthmark on the outside of her left leg, the way her nose tilted upward slightly at the tip, the roundness of her chin, her fingers: shorter than mine with their nails bitten down to almost nothing because that was how she dealt with stress...all her perfect imperfections I was noticing again for the first time.

I moved back on top of her the way she had done to me, and felt her hands on my breasts, her fingers exploring my skin for a change. I straddled her waist, raised her head so I could push the pillows under it, grabbed the headboard for support, lowered my chest to her lips, and closed my eyes.

Ecstasy exploded through me as her tongue found my right nipple. Then my left. She squeezed my breasts together with her hands, one on each side, and I inhaled deeply as I felt her tongue gently working its way across each one in turn, back and forth, back and forth, slowly and steadily, circling my nipples like a cat preparing to pounce.

Another wave of pleasure hit as she pulled them between her lips at the same time, sucking softly the way I had, and I cursed myself for not thinking of doing that to her first. After all, she deserved it just as much as I did, didn't she? I tilted my head back and moaned, and _oh God_ did she deserve this.

I whispered her name, moaned, whispered it again: _yes, like that, just like that, anna, ohmigawd..._

I squeezed the wood of the headboard, wondering if my nails would leave any tell-tale marks, and somewhere in the part of my brain that hadn't yet run away in fear of another beating, I remembered dad talking about how it was solid oak, not some soft wood like pine that would warp.

She sucked harder, and I exhaled her name again, begging her not to stop.

She didn't. Her legs wrapped around mine, pinning them so I couldn't leave. As if I wanted to leave. As if any force of Heaven or Earth could have made me.

I don't know how long we were like that...me supporting myself above her while she did everything to me that I had done to her (and then some), but finally my arms began to tremble and I knew I couldn't hold that position any longer. "Wait...wait..." I whispered, and wrapped an arm around her head. "Gotta relax..."

I rolled back over on my side slowly, guiding her with me, holding her head to my breast as best I could, and rested my own on the pillows, eyes closed, as she continued to suck.

I ran a finger across my right breast, feeling the moisture her tongue left behind, and rubbed it into my skin. I wanted it to stay there forever, to remind me of tonight. My nipple stiffened, moist and exposed to the air. I didn't think the heat was on, but right now I didn't need it. We were warm enough together.

I remembered the part of the video that came towards the end. On the screen, their fingers had started exploring in the shower. I was so worked up I didn't want to wait, but as I looked down and watched the top of her head bobbing gently as she sucked, I realized there was no need to rush. She wanted this, needed this, just as much as I did. 'And maybe,' a little voice whispered in the back of my head, 'once it's over this will be the last time you ever feel like this again.'

I shivered. No. No! It wouldn't be, it _couldn't_ be, the last time or the only time.

Could it...?

Seeking reassurance, I whispered her name. "anna?"

When she didn't answer, I tried again. "anna...hey...?"

She looked up at me, questioning, and I saw it. I saw in her eyes. _Don't make me stop. Don't end it here._

I drew her head up to mine, caressed her cheek, and put my lips to hers. _Don't worry,_ I said with my kiss, _this never has to end._ I felt her silently agree.

We stayed like that for I don't know how long, the minutes ticking down into the gaping maw of the past, lips together, mouths locked, bodies compressed, legs entwined, letting the moment simmer on a low heat so we didn't burn out.

By now, her tongue was so comfortable and known that it seemed impossible there could have been a time before this evening when I didn't know what it felt like to share a french kiss with her. The heart beating in the chest just centimeters from mine was familiar to me as our own house. No matter if it was pitch black, I could find my way back to it. The fingers stroking my spine felt like my own. She felt like me. And I hoped I felt the same to her.


	3. loving

That was the crux of things. She felt exactly like me. Like home. Like sanctuary.

Like love...?

I wasn't sure about that. I knew what love was: I loved dad, after all. And I still loved mom, even if she had run out on dad with her newer, richer boyfriend so many years ago. I had always loved anna, of course, because she was my sister, but not like this...God, never like this...

It didn't feel like elsa. I hadn't loved Kristoff, and even if I had, our status as boyfriend/girlfriend hadn't survived Fall Break that year. I cried after he texted to say he was breaking up with me, because seriously, who texts his girlfriend to dump her? But the tears weren't tears of sorrow. They were more like tears of betrayal, the kind you cry when you feel like something you should have gotten was denied at the last minute.

That's what made this so different. I tried to think about something happening, something where anna and I hadn't wound up here tonight. What if we'd found the remote? Instead of here, sharing, we'd be watching the extended version of "The Fellowship of the Ring", seeing Gimli and Legolas bickering, witnessing Gandalf fall to the Balrog, urging Frodo and company away with the command: "Fly, you fools!"

_Fly._

Well, I couldn't exactly deny my foolish nature. And I sure felt like I was flying.

Just one problem: flights end. Either you land or you crash, but one way or another, what goes up must come down. Not even birds, some of which spend many hours of the day airborne on their way south for the winter, can fly forever.

_But just because a plane lands,_ I told myself, _doesn't mean it can't take off again._Sometimes it needs to refuel. Let its passengers disembark, take on new cargo. Birds find a branch, sleep for the night, then head out again in the morning like nothing has changed.

_Let us be like those birds,_ I pleaded with the universe. There was only one way to find out if it could happen though, and that was to carry on through the turbulence.

I held my left arm around her head as we kissed, and slowly slid my right hand down her side. To her hip. To her thigh. Inside her thigh, moving her legs apart with my own.

If this happened, I'd know for sure. If we didn't crash, then maybe we could fly forever...

I felt her hair, soft and reassuring, against my fingers as I moved down between her legs. anna, unlike the girls in the movie, didn't shave. In a way I was disappointed; I was curious to know what that felt like. But I was glad too: I could know everything about her, even this.

She moaned quietly against my mouth as I gently explored her with my middle finger. Her lips were tender, moist with her own heat just as mine were. I guided my finger through her little garden, caressing her with a fingertip, up and then down.

Up and down.

The kiss changed.

Everything changed.

Now it wasn't just a kiss. It was a demand. It was desire given physical form, a white flash of phosphorous, long-burning and intense. Maybe there's even a word for a kiss like that, I don't know. But if you've felt it before, you know what I mean. If you haven't... Well, then I guess there's nothing I can do except ask you to trust me.

My finger slipped inside her faster than I expected. There had been a few times, during a particularly intense fantasy, where I'd wound up a lot wetter than I imagined, and surprised myself with how easy I slid my own finger in, but with someone else this was all new to me. Like the kiss, this was another first. I was on my own, but not alone, because she was right here with me.

A cry escaped her lips, and I opened my eyes to see she'd done the same. I swallowed. "If you want me to stop..."

"Don't."

"Are you-?"

She grabbed my hand and held it in place, interrupting me. "Yes, elsa, _God_..." Then she closed her eyes and rested her mouth against mine. This time my tongue ventured forth first.

I moved my finger in and out slowly, letting her get used to the sensation. I didn't know how often anna pleasured herself, although I assumed that like me she did so at least a couple of times a week, even if only to relieve tension or help herself get to sleep. But I didn't want to assume, and if this was her first time, I didn't want to overrun her with sensations she'd have trouble understanding.

So I took my time.

I took my time because I wanted to protect her. If anybody was going to do this, go this far with her for her first time, I wanted it to be me. Someone else might hurt her. Someone else might scare her. Misuse her. Abuse her trust. Break her.

But not if I was first. If I gave anna the knowledge, the memory, of what it should feel like, if I got there before someone else did, she would always know. This was giving perhaps the most precious gift an older sister could give. I had already accidentally stolen her first kiss, a nearly unforgivable crime. In exchange, I resolved to give this to her fully, lovingly, truly.

The television's power saver mode kicked in, and it turned itself off, cloakng the room in night's blanket. In a way I was glad, because now no one could see us. On the other hand, if I needed to look her in the eyes, to find that reassurance again, I wouldn't be able to. Rationally this wasn't a problem. But I'd kicked rationality's ass far too many times this evening; it and I weren't on speaking terms any longer.

She shivered against me. At first I thought she was cold and was going to suggest we could get under the blanket, but she followed it up with a whisper of, "Feels good...", so I kept going.

Even when we took a brief break from the kiss to draw in a breath or two of fresh air, I could taste her on my lips. Her scent, her taste, everything that made her 'anna' was now as much a part of me as my own skin. I gently ran my toes over her foot, and smiled at the tickling sensation that made her pull it away for a second before coming back to let me do it again.

I moved my finger as far inside her as I could reach, and was rewarded with a long intake of breath, which she held, then exhaled against my cheek. When I drew my finger back, she pushed herself towards it. I loved the feeling, the warmth, the deepness, the sense that there was so little left between us. I loved the sounds she made, drawing each breath, letting it out, repeating, as I stroked between her thighs. Loved the sensation of her gripping my shoulder with one hand. Loved when she bit my lip when something felt really good. Loved when a shudder she couldn't control ran down her legs, through her back, across her arms.

My mind wandered, unbidden, to Ms. Watko, my Health teacher, who taught the Sex Ed unit for sophomores. I honestly don't remember much about the class except for the time we passed around these really weird jelly-form 'breasts' so we could examine them for lumps, but I did recall during one question-and-answer session at the end of class, she'd posed one to us: "What's the difference between 'having sex' and 'making love'?"

I didn't have a clue, and neither did anyone else in the class (or if they did, they weren't about to open their mouths and risk ridicule).

"Having sex," Ms. Watko had said, "is nothing more than the act of attempting to procreate. If you're having sex, intensity and emotion are secondary, and it's really only basic biology.

"Making love, though, that's something different." I remember the twinkle in her eyes as she began talking. "Making love is just like sex, only, well, more. You're there, in the moment, with your partner, and it's like the rest of the world just melts away. It's giving and receiving pleasure for pleasure's sake, being unconcerned with yourself, only with your partner."

I remember one girl's hand going up after that, Tiffany's I think, and she asked, "How would we know the difference?"

The only thing Ms. Watko said was, "If you're left wondering, then it's just sex. If it's making love, you won't have any doubt."

I felt anna shiver against me again, returning me to the present. I didn't have to wonder. Like Ms. Watko had promised: I had no doubt.

She drew in a quick breath, and I felt the change. A quiet whimper. She shuddered. The tempo altered: instead of working with me, letting me control things, she was wrestling to take charge.

Her hips thrust against my hand, and I worked my fingertip faster across the little bump I always used on me when I pleasured myself. She moved in time with me, urging me to hurry up. She bit my lip harder. Grabbed a fistful of my hair. Tensed her calves. Clenched her toes. Doing it to myself was one thing...knowing I was doing it to my own sister blistered my synapses. I've never used cocaine, but if it's anything like this, no wonder people get addicted.

I moved quicker, rubbing her sex more urgently, listening to the sounds of her whimpers and moans increasing in intensity, frequency, duration.

She demanded more, and I gave it, caressing her leg with my foot, squeezing her shoulder with my hand, working my fingers between her legs as fast as I could, pushing harder, driving her forward.

By now she was no longer kissing me. Her mouth hung open, slack, drawing breath in and out as quickly as she could. Her eyes were closed, pinched tight, like she was caught mid-sneeze. And still she pushed, struggled, fought onward.

"anna," I whispered.

"Huh?" she breathed.

I leaned close to her, and waited until I felt her start to tense up so she'd hear, so there could be no mistake, no question in her mind if she thought about it later on. I waited.

Waited.

Her abs flexed: my cue. I stilled my finger and she grabbed my shoulders. I put my lips to her ear. "I love you." And gave another stroke.

She broke.

Everything inside her shattered as she let out a long, gasping wail. She squeezed my shoulder so tightly I had an epic bruise the next morning. But I didn't care, because she began to climax.

She kept going, vibrating the bed as the spasms ran wild through her. For my part, I just let her use my finger as she needed, pushing and steadying herself, pulling away to relax, then pushing forward again for more. The noises she made, the words she said, were for my ears and my ears alone. Written down, they would lose their impact. I could record them, but only clinically. You couldn't understand what they meant, either to me or her. They would lack a context impossible for me to provide. At that time, in that place, they simply _were_. All apologies to the curious, but this will have to suffice because some things must remain for her and I alone.

I don't know how long I cradled her in my arms as she rode down her climax until there was nothing left but the occasional shiver. Finally she returned to my lips and I welcomed her home with all the fanfare of a wayward spirit. anna. My sister. My lover.

The kisses we shared now were different than the beginning. At first uneasy, then working their way to desperate, now they communicated peace, serenity, and a non-judgmental familiarity.

Finally, still working to fully catch her breath, she opened her eyes, something I could just barely see thanks to the angle of the moon shining in through a break in the curtains, and whispered something softly.

"Hmmm?" I asked, and bent closer to her mouth.

"Love you too," she breathed into my ear.

I kissed her forehead and smiled. The words were wonderful to hear, but I didn't need them. She'd sung them to me so many times, so beautifully, just moments ago.

"What time is it?" she asked after a long, glowing silence.

"I don't know, I can't see the clock."

She shifted and raised her head to look over my shoulder, then sank back against the bed. "Oh man... It's quarter after one."

"dad'll be home soon," I murmured.

She pulled my mouth to hers and we shared another kiss. "I think we have a few minutes, right...?"

I agreed.

Slowly the energy in the room normalized, and I felt everything reach the equilibrium from when we first entered. I cradled her head against my shoulder, then moved my arm as she lifted herself to a sitting position.

She sat up and stretched. Her back popped, making me wince. "Guess we ought to get dressed, huh?"

I looked over her, taking in her silhouetted form in the darkness, wishing I could turn on a light but not wanting to break the moment and embarrass her. "Guess so..." I said reluctantly.

She leaned in and kissed me again. "But just until dad gets here."

I smiled, and she must have been able to tell in the moonlight. "Don't worry," she said as she crawled to the foot of the bed and stood up. "I'll still love you after he comes home. And nothing," she added, wrapping her arms around me as I swung my legs over the floor and stood up, "is going to keep me from proving that after he goes to bed."

As she stooped to gather up her clothing, I closed my eyes, rocked back on my heels, and thought: _Thank God we never found that remote._

So that's how it happened. I don't know if it makes sense, or even if it can make sense to you, but if nothing else it stands as my testament to 'why'. It turned out dad _had_ misplaced the remote; we found it in one of the kitchen drawers a couple days later. And no, for those of you wondering, he hadn't intended for us to go snooping and find that video. dad's human, just like everyone else. He's got needs like everyone else. And he just happened to leave a porn video in the player in his bedroom. Knowing dad, it'll be there for weeks and surprise him the next time he goes to watch something. anna's convinced if we look hard enough we can find his stash. She's probably right, but I think I've seen enough. At least for the time being.

The world works in mysterious ways. I think some things are just destined to happen, no matter what we want, or think we want. But I also believe that, in the end, it all turns out OK. So far for us, it has. Eventually the universe makes fools of us all, one way or another. That night it just happened to be our turn.

And so, like fools, we fly.

I moved back on top of her the way she had done to me, and felt her hands on my breasts, her fingers exploring my skin for a change. I straddled her waist, raised her head so I could push the pillows under it, grabbed the headboard for support, lowered my chest to her lips, and closed my eyes.

Ecstasy exploded through me as her tongue found my right nipple. Then my left. She squeezed my breasts together with her hands, one on each side, and I inhaled deeply as I felt her tongue gently working its way across each one in turn, back and forth, back and forth, slowly and steadily, circling my nipples like a cat preparing to pounce.

Another wave of pleasure hit as she pulled them between her lips at the same time, sucking softly the way I had, and I cursed myself for not thinking of doing that to her first. After all, she deserved it just as much as I did, didn't she? I tilted my head back and moaned, and _oh God_ did she deserve this.

I whispered her name, moaned, whispered it again: _yes, like that, just like that, anna, ohmigawd..._

I squeezed the wood of the headboard, wondering if my nails would leave any tell-tale marks, and somewhere in the part of my brain that hadn't yet run away in fear of another beating, I remembered dad talking about how it was solid oak, not some soft wood like pine that would warp.

She sucked harder, and I exhaled her name again, begging her not to stop.

She didn't. Her legs wrapped around mine, pinning them so I couldn't leave. As if I wanted to leave. As if any force of Heaven or Earth could have made me.

I don't know how long we were like that...me supporting myself above her while she did everything to me that I had done to her (and then some), but finally my arms began to tremble and I knew I couldn't hold that position any longer. "Wait...wait..." I whispered, and wrapped an arm around her head. "Gotta relax..."

I rolled back over on my side slowly, guiding her with me, holding her head to my breast as best I could, and rested my own on the pillows, eyes closed, as she continued to suck.

I ran a finger across my right breast, feeling the moisture her tongue left behind, and rubbed it into my skin. I wanted it to stay there forever, to remind me of tonight. My nipple stiffened, moist and exposed to the air. I didn't think the heat was on, but right now I didn't need it. We were warm enough together.

I remembered the part of the video that came towards the end. On the screen, their fingers had started exploring in the shower. I was so worked up I didn't want to wait, but as I looked down and watched the top of her head bobbing gently as she sucked, I realized there was no need to rush. She wanted this, needed this, just as much as I did. 'And maybe,' a little voice whispered in the back of my head, 'once it's over this will be the last time you ever feel like this again.'

I shivered. No. No! It wouldn't be, it _couldn't_ be, the last time or the only time.


End file.
